


Vanilla-Scented Loving

by summercarntspel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Hand Jobs, Loving Dean, Loving Sam, M/M, Mild Smut, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summercarntspel/pseuds/summercarntspel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When there's nowhere to go and nowhere to be, Dean and Sam just spend time together in the bunker, and sometimes spending time together turns into something a little less platonic and a little more humorous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanilla-Scented Loving

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a headcanon that Sam likes sweet-smelling hand lotion and body wash and the like, I dunno. I figured I'd work it into a fic and it just HAD to have something funny about it, and this is what came from it.
> 
> p.s. I figured watching stuff on TLC would be amusing to them because people on TLC specials are probably the only human beings with slightly worse situations than they are in at any given moment.
> 
> (I promise to post the second chapter of The Angel's Curse sometime tomorrow, these things being posted now are just stories I've written on my phone and neglected to post.)
> 
> Feedback, lovelies? <3 <3

It was late, sometime between midnight and sunrise, but neither of the men inside the dimly lit room felt truly tired. A little sleepy and lazy, sure, but they'd felt like that since they stretched out on Sam's bed, who knows how many hours before.

Sam's room had only been completed a week or two before, after some serious convincing on Dean's part. Sam had picked out sheets and curtains at Target, a new bookshelf at the local IKEA, and they even splurged on a small flat-screen that was hanging above the old dresser across from Sam's bed.

If it made Sam feel at home, nothing was too much.

So, the pair had been spending most of their down time here, sprawled out on the comfortable mattress, clad in plaid sleep pants and faded t-shirts, half-cuddling while they watched old movies or some boring documentary on the History Channel or whatever ridiculous show happened to be on TLC that night.

That night, it happened to be the third option, and it was absolutely, positively wonderful.

"That poor bastard..." Dean muttered, eyes glued to the screen, intently watching a rerun of Sex Sent Me to the ER, arms wrapped loosely around his baby brother, Sam's head pillowed on his chest, "Something like that happening would turn me off forever, I think."

Sam snorted, turning his head to nuzzle against Dean's sculpted pec through his threadbare Zeppelin t-shirt, "Nothing could ever turn you off forever, dude. Not even getting your dick stuck in a malfunctioning sex toy."

Dean swatted at Sam's bare forearm, tracing a bulging vein with the callused tip of his index finger, feeling the muscles flex and relax under the ticklish touch.

"You're just lucky I gave up those kinds of sex toys when you came back from Stanford."

Sam smiled, craning his neck to place a few gentle, open-mouthed kisses to the spot just above the worn collar of Dean's shirt, inhaling the subtle scent of soap and Dean's cologne, eyelashes fluttering as the pure scent of his big brother filled his nostrils. "Mm, yeah..."

Dean shifted a bit on the bed when a commercial came on the television, his hand pushing at the bottom hem of Sam's shirt until it was bunched up, knuckles running up and down Sam's flank, feeling him shiver a bit at the touch, "So, you wanna have sex?"

Sam laughed softly, rolling his eyes and locking his fingers with the ones on Dean's free hand. Only Dean could think about having sex while watching a show about the poor people who ended up in the hospital because of sex...

Sam honestly hadn't realized he said that out loud until Dean flicked the sharp jut of his hip bone and called him a bitch.

"Sex is such a hassle... I'm sleepy," Sam whined, smirking cheekily, even though he made no move to stop Dean when his big brother began kissing and nipping at his neck, only tipping his head back enough to give him a bit more room to work, "Can't you just jerk off and let me get some rest?"

Dean chuckled, sucking a bruise onto the column of Sam's neck, right below the incredibly sensitive pulse point, which he nibbled at a moment after, "How 'bout I just jerk both of us off and we sleep? I wouldn't mind getting some shut-eye, either..."

"Mmm... okay," Sam agreed easily, feeling his cock starting to stir in his pajamas, fattening up under the attention Dean was paying him, "Haven't restocked the lube in here... should have some lotion, though?"

Dean nodded, pulling back just enough to pull Sam's bedside table's top drawer open, dipping a hand inside until his fingers gripped a small bottle of... vanilla lotion?

"Dude, since when do you buy shit to smell like a thirteen year-old girl?" Dean teased, flicking the cap open and immediately feeling like he was being assaulted with the smell of fake sugar cookies and budding femininity.

Arching an eyebrow, Sam stared at Dean while his brother squirted a dollop of the sweet-smelling goop into his palm, sniffing it and pulling a face, "Should I be worried about the fact that you know what thirteen year-old girls smell like?"

"Not since I used to be a horny thirteen year-old boy, once upon a time, no."

Before Sam could reply, Dean was tugging down his pants and then Sam's wrestling with Sam's boxer-briefs while he simply exposed himself, choosing to go without any underwear after they showered that evening. Then Dean was rolling, lining up their half-hard cocks, spreading the cool lotion around his palm before he took both of them in his hand.

"Mm, yeah... Remember catching you beatin' off in bed when you were that age..." Sam grunted, pushing his hips up against Dean's, smirking when Dean squirted more of the lotion out of the little bottle, coating their dicks with little stripes of the stuff before he rubbed it in with a thumb, "Used to watch you and wonder what was so great about whatever you were doing with yourself..."

Dean offered Sam that little half-smirk of his, stroking them with grace and rhythm, years and years of practice letting him fall into the familiar pattern without any real thought having to be devoted to it, "Yeah? I seem to recall teaching you all about it a few years later..."

Sam grinned, indulging in the memories of nervous, sweaty groping and touching under the ratty comforters of motels, Dean's free hand clamped over his mouth so his noises wouldn't wake Dad and get them caught.

Somehow that felt both like a lifetime ago and just yesterday, and Sam loved it.

Dean just continued what he was doing, twisting his wrist and thrusting his hips occasionally, letting the practiced process go on for five minutes, then ten, feeling sweat begin to bead on his back and seeing droplets forming on Sam's brow.

"Come on, Sammy-boy, this ain't the time to take it slow," Dean muttered, pumping their cocks with more force and pressure, the tip of his nudging against the base of Sam's, feeling the coarse hairs there brush over his sensitive slit, "How hard do I gotta work you?"

Sam grunted, knowing that he had the power to hold off or just come right then, not sure which he preferred at that moment.

With an expert twist of his hand, blunt thumbnail dipping into Sam's slit the tiniest bit, Dean made up his brother's mind.

Sam tensed, bare toes curling against the soft blanket at the foot of the bed as he came in spurts, shooting up against his own shirt and Dean's hand, Dean following close behind.

They hung in that sweet, blissful balance for a few moments, feeling pleasantly high and giggly before they began to come back down to earth once more.

Dean tossed the bottle of lotion onto the floor, tugging off their shirts and his pants before he pulled Sam's off his feet, tossing everything in the general direction of the clothes hamper in the corner of Sam's room before he flopped back down onto the bed, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sweat, come, and manufactured, too-sweet vanilla.

"Dude...," Sam muttered around a yawn, crawling under the covers of the bed and urging Dean to do the same, snuggling closer to his brother when Dean had settled down beside him.

Nodding, Dean kissed Sam's sweaty temple and smiled, fumbling with the remote for just long enough to turn the television down a few decibels, then placing the device back on the beside table.

"Yeah... hm, wanna go to bed, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, long limbs wrapping around Dean in a surprisingly accurate imitation of the monkey-esque way Sam used to cling to him when they were kids, the way Sam still clung to him when he felt decidedly cuddly and tired.

"Mhm... g'night, Dean... love you," Sam muttered, resting his head on Dean's chest, much in the same way it had been lying earlier, "I'll get coffee and doughnuts tomorrow... we'll have a good breakfast and nice shower sex..."

Dean chuckled softly, nuzzling the stubble on Sam's jaw before his eyes fluttered closed, letting the images of that sweet idea of how to spend their morning fill his mind until he drifted off into a peaceful, deep sleep.

Honestly, after all they went through on a daily basis, feeling so happy and such love for one another only seemed fair... and neither of them were going to argue with that.


End file.
